James Knapp: State of Decay

That put him down. His hand went slack, and I grabbed the gun as a beefy arm came around the front of my neck and squeezed. The muscle felt like cold stone against my throat, and breath smelling of rot huffed down the back of my neck.

The fear was worse than I had remembered. My legs went weak and everything seemed to slow down. I put the barrel of the gun against the thigh of the thing behind me and pulled the trigger. The blood that splashed back was cold.

Tai’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up, looking disoriented. He got to his feet and smoothed his clothes.

“Kill him,” he said.

He took off, but I didn’t see where he went. The arm came off my neck and I pulled in a breath as I was spun around, spots swimming in front of me. Something crashed across my head, and my legs went out from under me. As I dangled by one wrist, the hand that gripped it tried to shake the gun out of my hand. I looked up and saw a big male revivor with cropped black hair standing over me, its eyes ghostly white. Its mouth gaped open and long strands of drool hung from its lower lip, all of its crowded teeth on display.

This was the kind of revivor I knew. Low-end, made for combat, with only one or two imperatives buzzing around in its decaying brain. It might have come from the same steamy hellhole where I saw my first one.

I hit it, but if the thing felt any pain at all it didn’t show it. It forced my gun hand around and I squeezed off another shot, which grazed its ear. It pushed the gun back, twisting it around toward me.

As the barrel began to move toward my face, I felt the thing’s thumb rooting around for the trigger. From over the revivor’s shoulder I saw the bathroom door open, and the female revivor stepped out, staring at me through its stringy hair. It held its hands up in front of it, like a child who wasn’t sure what to do.

There was a loud bang, and the female retreated back into the bathroom. Shadows played on the wall as two uniformed SWAT men barreled around the corner.

“Here!” the one taking point shouted. Without hesitation, he aimed and fired, causing the revivor’s head to pitch to one side, spraying oily black fluid. The grip on my wrist released as it staggered away from me.

The SWAT officer fired again, and it dropped to one knee, then fell onto its back. The two men approached me as I rubbed my wrist. I moved over to where the revivor lay, trying to get back up as fluid pooled around its head. I aimed the gun and fired, putting a bullet between its eyes. I fired three more rounds and the top of its head broke open, spilling black guts out onto the floor.

“Whoa, whoa!” the officer said, holding up one hand. “You got him, chief.”

“That is not a pleasure or a labor model,” I said, pointing at it with the barrel of the gun.

Something was going on here. Tai was into something that went way beyond what I’d gone there to bust him for; something he’d managed to keep secret.

I turned and saw Tai being dragged into view down at the end of the hall. Two more officers forced him against the wall, and when he tried to turn around, one of them kicked out his leg and forced him onto his knees.

“Hands behind your head.”

“Starting a war?” I asked him.

He grinned. “Keep your doors locked,” he said in a low voice, glaring at me. He didn’t look angry, just serious.

“Shut up,” the SWAT guy said. I turned and started down the hallway.

“You hear me?” Tai called.

“Yeah.”

I passed the wall where Tai had pinned me, and saw his knife lying a few feet away. I approached the squad leader.

“There are ten revivors out back,” I said to him, “plus one in the bathroom.”

“Looks like our guys picked up another ten,” he said, “plus the rest of Tai’s men. You all right?”

“Yeah. Process Tai and the others, then load them and the revivors into the truck.”

“Roger.”

“Were your techs able to get a connection into his computer system?”

“You should have access now.”

I scanned and found the socket, then opened a connection to it and brought up the system in my field of view. I turned the antisecurity software on it and waited for it to drill down and disable his firewall. Tai’s stuff was encrypted, but nothing fancy. I cycled through his files, which mostly consisted of inventory—the specs and identifications of revivors he had brought into the country, which ones had been moved already, and which ones were still on order. No pickup location was spelled out, but there was a series of docket numbers, and it didn’t take long to match them to receiving ports at the Palm Harbor Shipyard. It looked as if they were being smuggled in among legitimate cargo from a bunch of different sources. I couldn’t tell from where, but it was a good start.

I headed back to the reception area, where the SWAT team had gathered the revivors. They had been grouped in rows and were now kneeling, with their hands behind their heads. Most of them were female and had cookie-cutter versions of the same body modifications. They were all dressed in cheap paper hospital smocks.

As I headed out the door, I turned back and saw one of the men bring in the one from the bathroom, nudging it forward with the barrel of his rifle. It looked at me like it recognized me. The man forced it down onto the floor with the others, and I turned and headed back to the elevator, putting in a call to the assistant director.

Noakes.

This is Noakes.

Agent Wachalowski reporting. Four suspects apprehended. Twenty-one revivors recovered. It looks like they’ve been bringing them in via Palm Harbor.

Where are the revivors now?

SWAT is loading them into the truck. We uncovered some pretty serious firepower here as well. Weapons, ammunition, and other military equipment. SWAT is cataloging it; you’ll have the list shortly.

What are we looking at?

Whoever wanted it knows his stuff. There’s enough to arm a small militia.

Noakes didn’t respond right away.

Get the seller down here. We need that information.

They’re moving him and the revivors now. From Tai’s records, it looks like something was just brought in to the shipyard. I’m on my way there. If we’re lucky, no one has picked it up yet.

A team will meet you there. Find out where that stuff was going.

I will.

The doors opened, and I crossed into the lobby. Across the foyer, I could see someone standing in the shadows near the exit. He wasn’t in uniform. I pinged the squad leader upstairs.

You guys have anyone in the lobby?

Negative. Two outside; the rest are up here.

The figure moved toward me, and when he stepped into the light I could see he was young, maybe college age. He had tangled brown hair and uneven stubble. He wore sneakers, running pants, and a gray hoodie. He wasn’t carrying a weapon.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked him.

“Agent Wachalowski?”

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

I scanned into the soft tissue of his face and saw some bioelectronics fitted behind the eyes. He was here gathering footage. I was being recorded.

“I hear you’ve got some revivors upstairs,” he said.

“Be careful what you admit to,” I said, moving past him. “There’s only one way you could have heard that.”

As I pushed past, he followed, keeping pace with me.

“Come on, you can give me something, can’t you?”

“Sorry, I can’t,” I said. “And listening in on even unsecured communications like that is a felony; you know that. The SWAT guys are on their way down, and if they find you here, you’re going to be arrested.”